Post It Notes: An Unlikely Love Story
by iamasuperhero
Summary: He clutched his head with his hands and fought the urge to bang his head on his desk. Who said writing down your feelings is an easy task? A collaboration with my sister.


**iamasuperhero: To say that it's weird to work with someone else is awkward, what more when she's actually your sibling?  
tooswaggytobeahero: ****Rolling my eyes here.  
iamasuperhero: Riiight.  
tooswaggytobeahero: Oh, so mature. Very mature.  
iamasuperhero: Whatever you say Lt. Sarcasm.**

**Disclaimer: It is a crime to the fandom and the world to own Riordan's sheer geniocity (a 2-second made up word) despite the strong affinity to do otherwise. We're not evil. Just thoroughly and utterly deprived because MoA is being such a tease.**

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******Ψ**

_**Post-It Notes: An Unlikely Love Story**_

**Chapter One  
**_Percy Jackson is still officially a coward.  
_

**Ψ**

Are you familiar with that 2" x 2" inch, pale green square with one third of its space with sticky surface? Most call it Post-It notes, some sticky pad while others call it memo pad. Who knew that this could be a medium for a story to take place? I didn't know, perhaps, you did? Nah! I doubt it because in the back of our mind, post-it notes are only for jotting down the things we do or reminders for the day. Never would you have thought of using these square pads as a paper to write down a love letter. But I did. Oh, yes I did.

It started halfway through the school year. We all know that this is going to be the last year of high school. Others had developed the courage to stand up against someone. The shy type students had a huge personality change and were now talkative and outgoing. Meanwhile, the lazy, bum type students were probably immersed in their books right now. What about me, you ask? To tell you the truth, I'm not one of those popular sporty athletic talented kind of guys. I'm that ordinary normal type. Not much noticeable neither unpleasant to look at. I believe I stand in the middle. Just right, I think. Now that we've established my standing in the school social status pyramid, I will go back to what we were talking about earlier.

As I have said not long ago, I was that normal guy with a few friends and good grades. I see soccer and swimming as a past time although my friends do love soccer enough to play every afternoon after class dismissals. Of course, I play with them for a couple of minutes and then I sit at the edge of grass field and wait until she passes by at the opposite side. She was beautiful and she always makes my hands clammy that I have to wipe them on my pants. You're probably wondering who she is. Well, since I'm in a terribly happy mood now that I've seen her, I'll indulge you this once.

Her name is Annabeth Chase, like that of the autumn she is breathtaking. She's a senior like me and she will celebrate her birthday in a week or two. How I came to know this? I saw her friends greet her last year. She has a blonde hair that reached to the middle of her back and she often ties it with a purple ribbon. Her hair makes you want to run your fingers through it. And no matter how stalkerish that makes me, I admit it to you. She's not the most popular girl in school although she's higher in the pyramid than me since her father owns a share in the school. That's a problem, you know. She seems and appears to be unreachable to me. Perhaps that's why I never got the courage to make her notice me, that is, until a couple of days ago.

Annabeth Chase, can be considered that sweet but strong type of girl. She never had a boyfriend and was waiting for that right guy to come along. Of course, I dreamed more than once to be that lucky guy. I can go on and on complimenting her, remarking her of her natural beauty and her gracefulness but I assure you that we will possibly never get to finish.

Who am I, you say? As I have said, I'm just that guy sitting at the corner of the room. Fine, I'll introduce myself. I am Percy Jackson, the youngest son of the Jackson family. And yes, that is the family of a rich businessman that is often in different sections of the newspaper. My father, Poseidon Jackson, named after the Greek god of the sea, is the founder of Marine Conservation Institute. My mother, Sally Jackson is commonly known for her skills in writing. They were slightly disappointed that I have found neither talent coming from them. Let's just say that I am at that point in my life where I am still trying to find who I am. That sounds so cliché. Something everyone knows about my family is that my parents are separated. I live with my mom and she's happily married to Paul with a baby in tow. Anyway, you'll know about more of me later.

And before I forget, I happen to be in love with Annabeth Chase. Lame, I know. Unrequited, silent love of a poor, poor boy. You might not understand this but looking at her from a far distance makes my day. I'm content. I should be but one night my friend blurted out of the blue that graduation was coming close and seeing each other would be difficult since college would make that a little impossible. That made me thinking about my stupid in likeness with Annabeth. I want her to know about my feelings but I'm scared shitless on how she will react. I decided not to do anything about it, you know.

She'll probably gently reject me like she did with other guys for the past four years. She didn't know this but her rejections to other guys were like sweet melodic music to my ears.

After that night hanging out with my friends, the succeeding days didn't help me at all. Everywhere I look I see signs or phrases, or quotes that tell me to come up to her and confess my undying love. Easier said than done. I'll give you an example: I was waiting for the bus to arrive so I can go home. Five minutes later, the bus pulls over at the stop. What was funny and irritating at the same moment was this bus had a design of Nike – Just Do It. Although in my situation, Just Say It, would be more suitable. I didn't realize I let out a scoff when this old woman with a cane looked at me disapprovingly. Hell, she probably heard my expletives.

Oh, there was that one thing that really shook me and made me do what I did. It was when I was searching for an article on childhood (since this was the theme of our essay) and I came across this link and of course, being the curious cat that I am, I clicked it and read the article. The writer's last sentence was what made me leap off my chair and think like a mad scientist: It is not what I did; It is what I didn't do that makes me regret half of the things in my life. Thus, my odd way of telling Annabeth about my feelings came to be: the Post-It Notes way. If I were a writer, then I would have authored the How to Confess Your Unrequited Love FOR DUMMIES (which I am more than sure hasn't been written yet).

There you go, that is how I find myself hiding at the corner of the hallway staring at Annabeth as she opens her locker and yet to see the note I posted inside. Damn it if I don't feel nervous right now.

I can feel my heart race as she opens her locker. From this distance I can hear the squeaky sound the small locker door produced and I knew if I were a girl I would have made the same sound. She smiles as she reaches for something. Oh God, my heart just dropped and it's dripping bloody on the floor. I knew without looking at the mirror that I have a goofy smile on my face. Annabeth just smiled at my sticky note. Hell, this is heaven.

You're curious as to what I wrote in there, aren't you? You'll probably be dead by the week's end if you're always this curious. Fine, no matter how unmanly this would make me, I'll let you know:

_Have you noticed how the flowers bow down as you pass by?_

_How the sun smiles as you walk down the road?_

_Or how the birds sing as they hear your laughter?_

_ Perhaps, how my heart jumps from my chest as you walk by?_

Aren't I such a lame coward guy? Utterly and unmanly cheesy, too? I know, I know. The male race would disown me pronto if they hear about this. So you better keep this deadly secret, alright? I don't want to take any chances of dying young.

Going back to the present, Annabeth has a ghost of smile lingering on her lips as she finishes reading my stupid poem. Another problem, I don't know what she does with my notes after reading them. There's a great chance she throws them away. I hate to admit it but that would have meant throwing my heart away. God, I sound like a girl. Doesn't she know she has this power over me? No, she doesn't. What she might know is she has a stalker lurking in the shadows readying to jump at her. And I'm not like that. Hell shit no, I'm not psycho to pounce at her like a tiger. I can be perhaps a little puppy with those big eyes and pink tongue wanting to receive affection. I'm hopeless, aren't I?

That's it. The deed is done for the day. She'll forget all about me – I mean – my note by the end of the day.

Percy Jackson is still officially a coward.

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**End Notes:**

**tooswaggytobeahero: That's what you call a comeback?  
iamasuperhero: I concede.****  
tooswaggytobeahero: 1  
iamasuperhero: Goose Egg  
**

**Percy says he'll tap the powers of the sea to try to impress his ladylove Annabeth if you press that waiting-to-be-harrassed new blue Review button. If not, well good luck on your next beach outing.  
**

**With all your demigodishness, Peace out!  
**


End file.
